We Need You, Peter Pevensie
by yetti
Summary: PETER DIES... ha, bet that got your attention. He doesn't really, but there is some other stuff... read on to find out more! Ooooooh, spooky... well, not really. It's more of a love story. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – If Only…**

_I don't own Narnia, yada yada ya… I think that's kinda obvious, otherwise I would've called myself C.S. Lewis, not yetti. Well, this isn't really set at any particular time; it's just a random tit-bit. I guess you could say it's just after 'Prince Caspian' but before 'Voyage of the Dawn-Treader'. Enjoy:_

"Peter!" Lisa cried out in a giggle, "What if Michael catches us?"

Peter sighed. "So what if he does, Lis'? We should have already told him!"

Lisa shrugged out from underneath Peter, sliding off the sofa they had previously been so fondly nestling on, and let out a resigned sigh.

"I'm not keeping this in the dark any more, Lis'. I will marry you, and I will let people know about it."

As he said this, Lisa turned to the ring that glittered so precariously on her finger. It was beautiful… thank god Peter's grandmother had the good taste to let him give it to her, or she'd have been left to suffer whichever scrawny jewel he could afford. The one she now wore (but only when Peter could see her) had an elegant marquise ruby centred by seven round-cut diamonds. It reflected every tiny bit of warm, yellow light that filtered into the room through the closed, but broken shades and scattered the colours of a rainbow across her slim hands.

Or, at least the original had. This one was a cheap knock-off that she'd bought to replace Peter's grandmother's after she'd sold it for no less than £350 (though it was worth much more, she didn't want to ask for too much in case it raised suspicion). At times, Lisa had regretted the decision – the ring was radiant – but it was for the greater good, in the form of a fantastic designer knee-length dress, matching earrings and a year's supply of stockings.

"If you don't tell Michael by tomorrow, I will, and I'm sure he'd rather hear it from you." Peter ruffled Lisa's hair and pulled her back onto the sofa to further fondle.

Michael was a problem. As Lisa's twin, he would have every idea as to what she was up to as soon as he heard what was going on; he knew her far too well for his own good.

Lisa, ignoring Peter's wandering hands, glanced around the room. It wasn't particularly grand, but it was the only place they could go without getting caught doing what they were doing. Every surface had been covered with dust, when they'd first arrived there, but Peter had quickly put himself to use and cleaned, while Lisa bought some furniture (as in stole a sofa, rug and table from her mother's house, and then spent the money on shoes to go with her designer dress, but Peter wasn't to know that). They ended up with a warm, ever-so-slightly shabby room that provided the perfect escape from the prying eyes they'd get at the park.

And then she focused her attention on Peter. He definitely wasn't the worse she could have done for a mark; he was loyal, loving, and honest, meaning she didn't have to worry about the wandering hands going anywhere that would make her uncomfortable. And he was absolutely gorgeous. He was a gentleman… it sort-of made her feel guilty about what she was doing to him, but not enough to stop.

"Let's elope." Lisa felt Peter stiffen as he lifted his soft lips from her collar bone.

He coughed. "What?"

"Elope, you know? When you run away and…"

Peter quickly cut her off. "I know what it means, Lis', but I'm not doing it."

Lisa's eyebrows creased together in frustration. Why was he making it so hard for her to extort money from him?

"Why not?" She slipped her arms into his and embraced him for a few moments, but her impatience got the better of her. "I love you."

He was putty in her hands. The smallest amount of expressing her emotions to him and he'd do whatever she wanted. And this would work this time, she was sure.

"I'm sorry, Lis'." Maybe not. "I couldn't do that. For one, it's not right. It makes us look like we're trying to hide something, and there's no way that could happen."

Lisa rolled her eyes and muttered to herself exasperatedly, "He has to treat me with respect."

Peter either didn't hear her, or ignored her little comment, "Secondly, I don't want to hide this. You mean too much to me to hide you away from everyone. Finally, I couldn't marry someone without my family… being there, you know? Approving. I've been through a lot with them, and if I eloped… it would be like I was betraying them."

"I've never even met your family," Lisa moaned as she rolled across the floor away from Peter, resigning herself to the fact that she'd have to tell her brother everything and hope he didn't give the game away, "Are you just gonna show up and announce we're engaged?"

She didn't want to start an argument with him. Every ounce of her was trying to pull herself away from the side of her that insisted on challenging everything anyone said, but sometimes the instinct was too strong. But she had to be careful. If he even caught the slightest glimpse of how she really felt, he'd immediately realise the truth. Peter was a sucker for love, but he was no idiot.

Lisa had always picked up that vibe from him: the feeling that behind the attractive features of the young man she faced was the heart of a lion… and something else... like he was hiding another, more dominant side of himself all the time. She'd noticed that it was particularly noticeable while he was with his family when she'd scoped him out to see if she could work him.

"I've mentioned you…" He sighed, before he noticed that Lisa's eyes had widened.

"You told them about me? I told you not to…" Her sudden burst of anger visibly shocked him, so she toned it down and continued, "… until I'd told Michael."

"I didn't tell them anything specific, just that I was seeing someone and it was going well." Peter's features went surly when he spoke about keeping their relationship concealed, especially from his family.

This was a constant worry for Lisa: keeping her need for secrecy balanced with keeping her mark happy. If she's too well known, they'll know where to look; if he gets too uneasy he'll leave. Either way she loses.

Finally, after weighing up her options for the latest in a number of times, she decided it was time to meet the family. It was only so long until he got edgy and did it himself, so it may as well be on her terms.

"Fine. We'll do the 'tell the family' tomorrow," Lisa exhaled noisily, "You win."

Peter's face lit up in a way she hadn't seen before; it was even more attractive than she'd thought possible. Another reason why she'd chosen him as a mark, his great smile.

* * *

Peter stared quietly down at the sleeping beauty, laid eloquently across the hard wood floor next to him, no more than a blanket to keep her comfortable, and no more than his arms to keep her warm.

She was the one.

Though she had a stunningly fluid body, beautiful wavy blonde hair, and amazingly full breasts, he couldn't take his eyes from gorgeous cherry lips. As she breathed, they parted slightly and blew sweet smelling air across his face, staying in a permanent and striking pout. By now, after many sleepless nights staring at those lips, he'd memorised every crease, every curve, so to better know where he was when she parted those lips around his.

Perhaps, you might say, he was in love with those lips, but he knew he wasn't. He could never be so petty. He used to be High King Peter the Magnificent: he couldn't be fooled into loving someone purely for their lips.

And now she was going to marry him, and he got to tell people he was marrying the one with good lips. Great lips. But, that was also a bad thing.

How were his brother and sisters going to react? They'd never met Lisa. They knew about her, but for some reason she didn't want them to know her. But she was great! She was funny, sweet and had great lips. And he loved her, so they'd have to like her.

The beautiful lips pulled together and her face crinkled up quickly into a small but significantly heart-breaking smirk, followed by her eyelids peeling away to reveal her crimson and black eyes…

That wasn't right. She had green eyes, like the Great Eastern Ocean in Narnia at sunset when you looked down on it from Cair Paravel, not red. That was wrong.

Peter lurched up and away from the being that was once Lisa, but now something else. Were he in his role as High King in Narnia, he would be drawing his sword, but as a young man in London staring down the woman he loved he could never, nor would never, harm her.

"Peter, Peter, Peter." Lisa's voice hissed through the little light and hit him like a physical entity. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Wha-Wha…?" He continued backing away from her, now on his feet. "You're not Lisa."

The thing laughed; a horrible sound. "Oh, I'm Lisa, alright. The real Lisa, without her false outer shell or bad acting, which you – High King Peter the Magnificent – fell for." It… she laughed again.

Peter felt himself shake his head.

"It's true, pathetic little man, but you failed to notice the signs," Another repulsive laugh, "You think a woman like this-" she motioned to Lisa's body "-could ever love you? No, she's playing you, mister."

Peter continued to shake his head.

"Okay, don't believe me. But you'll regret this." She laughed again, this time louder and longer.

The laugh carried on, boring into Peter's skull, getting louder and louder as he shook his head, until he couldn't bear the sound anymore. He clutched at his head, attempting to block the sound out by covering his ears, but to no avail. It seemed the laugh was coming from inside his head. He scratched at his ears, trying to reach the sound to pull it out, but nothing would work.

* * *

Peter sat bolt upright from his bed, sweat covering his brow and aches ricocheting through his back. A sweet, caring face – with a look of worry that looked wrong etched across it – stared into his eyes as he took slow, deep breaths to calm himself.

"Are you okay, Pete?" Lucy asked, rubbing the man's smooth, bare arms comfortingly.

He nodded, unable to bring himself to speak in his panic. As he tried to calm himself down, he remembered more of his dream and another surge of anxiety spread through his mind and body.

"You were screaming…" Lucy looked at Peter until he glanced up and caught her eye.

Peter nodded. "Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucy, the ever-considerate sister, continued to hold Peter's arm in a kind way, but had a firm tone to her voice, almost like what she was saying wasn't a question.

Peter, despite Lucy's forceful tenor, shook his head. "It was nothing, Lu."

Lucy raised her eyebrows, but something in his body posture told her to drop it, so she gave his arm another affectionate squeeze and got up to leave. But, when she reached the doorway, she stopped and turned around.

"Pete?" Lucy murmured.

Peter grumbled his acknowledgement, as he was still trying to compose himself.

"Who's Lisa?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – What the…?**

_I've just realised that I've put an ellipsis in each of the chapter titles so far. Well, maybe I'll keep it as a theme? Please, oh please, read and review. I live off reviews! SERIOUSLY! Anywho, enjoy:_

Lucy was sat cross-legged on the end of Peter's bed, excitedly bouncing up and down on the spot. Her round cheeks were flushed, and she had an exceptionally large smile spread from ear to ear. As she bounced, her breathing speed increased with excitement and exertion. She would never be able to keep this a secret, even for a few hours.

"Lucy, seriously, calm down!" Peter pushed down on her knees in an attempt to keep her still; the bed was squeaking.

"Oh. My. _Goodness_!" She giggled, "You're going to get married!"

The words came out in a sort of song, so she continued to hum the tune to herself as she threw her arms around Peter's neck and knocked him back against the wall.

"Oof…" Peter pushed her away, angry now, "You have to calm down, Lucy, I…"

"Can I be your bridesmaid? Oh, I could wear a blue dress… for my eyes, you know? And…" She was babbling almost incoherently.

Peter quickly interrupted before she got too ahead of herself. "Number one, Lu, you have to _calm down_. I'm telling the rest tomorrow," he glanced at the clock, "Make that today, and I don't want them finding out from you rather than me. Number two, go back to bed; you're tired."

Lucy quickly shook her head. "No, I'm not, I…"

"Lu," Peter cut her short again, "You asked me if you could be my bridesmaid and wear a blue dress."

She shrugged. "So?"

"So…" Peter chuckled, "I don't have bridesmaids!"

Lucy frowned as he continued to laugh at her, and then stood up with a huff.

"Fine. See you tomorrow, Pete." Even as she was finishing her sentence, she stormed out of the room.

Peter sighed to himself. At least he could be certain she wouldn't tell anyone, and that she was fine with him not having told her sooner. Then again, she may change her mind in the morning, but that was unlikely. Lucy was too trustworthy and honest for her to do anything like that, which could also be a problem. Would she lie to her other siblings?

As Peter shuffled back under his covers, away from the cold night, he couldn't worry about that. All he could think about was his dream, and the false Lisa. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw those spine-tingling, goose bump-inducing eyes. Red and black. What kind of person… what kind of thing has eyes that are red and black?

It didn't even cross his mind that it may all be true.

* * *

Lisa watched her hand shake as she lifted it up to knock on the door to her old house, the place she had left as soon as she possibly could. Which was exactly why her hands were shaking so much: she'd left him alone. Could he… would he ever take her back, or at least accept her enough to play along with the marriage charade?

The knocks that echoed through the house that may as well be empty to her gave pulsed through her head, so she stopped at two. This could also mean nobody would come to the door, and she would be off the hook, but she knew she would have no such luck. Even if it was left unanswered, she'd have to knock again. They needed prepping.

Michael's face when he opened the door told her everything.

At first it was blank, and then a sort of unregistered recognition overwhelmed it and he took a moment to take the whole of Lisa in. She knew she'd changed – gotten a tad taller and shaped up a bit – but he couldn't not identify her: they were twins! He stole another confused glance at her face before comprehension kicked in and he gawped. Lisa, an artist when it came to timing, kept perfectly still, only moving to blink.

Her vigilance persisted as Michael's stare intensified. She noticed he hadn't been breathing when he took in a desperate breath, the first noise between the two in the entire reunion besides the knocking. He threw himself at her, first running his hands over her face, taking hold of her neck for a moment to see deeper into her eyes, and then yanking her into a tight hug. This reaction wouldn't last long enough to allow her explanation; Lisa was sure of that.

"Lis'! Oh my God, Lisa!" He let joyful tears fall through her hair when he seemed to breathe it in, as he had his head rested on top of hers.

"Mike." Lisa's tone suggested she wasn't quite as pleased to see him, which she was not.

"Lis'," Michael trapped her face between his two hands and once again inspected every inch of it to check she was real, "I can't believe this! You're really here!"

Lisa nodded, keeping her face clear of emotion so not to show her panic. His joy was really putting a damper on the fact that she was going to have to both tell him the truth about her and convince him to help her.

"How…" He seemed stuck for words, which was fair enough really. "How…"

Lisa understood. "It's a long story."

The reality of the situation in front of Michael seemed to be finally hitting home. He furrowed his eyebrows and ran his tongue around his teeth (a manoeuvre Lisa had one affectionately called the "Have I Cleaned My Teeth" Move). Lisa knew it meant he was starting to understand what was going on from many experiences when she'd quickly picked up a situation and he'd trailed along. She used to tease him about being slow, but now she was kind-of glad, because she got at least a moment to revel in the love he clearly still felt for her.

"Lis'…" Michael faced her full-on, a part-apprehensive, part-confused, part-suspicious look spread across his attractive face.

He had eyes the exact same shade of green as her, and used to have a similar pattern of freckles, but it looked like he'd grown out of it. And that's not the only thing he'd grown out of.

His long, stringy muscles were now thick, and his small, thin chest was now stretching against his white shirt. While Lisa used to come up to his eye-level, he now towered over her so she only came up to his shoulder, and he was no longer an awkward-looking teenager with features too big for him. He was a handsome young man.

The only difference Lisa wasn't happy to see were the scars she saw: one long one across the back of his hand, a healed rip in his left ear and a short but permanent split that went from his upper lip to his bottom. His lips that he now used to ask Lisa the question she'd been expecting immediately:

"Lisa, why aren't you dead?"

* * *

Peter leant onto the table, his siblings sitting quietly, and slightly impatiently on Edmund's part, around it. Lucy sat with a knowing smile opposite Peter, Susan chewed politely on her lip and Edmund let out a great puff of air in his anxious older brother's direction.

Peter ignored Edmund's breathing patterns and ran his hand across his forehead and through his hair, glanced up at his brother and two sisters again, and then repeated the action of dishevelling his hair.

"Oh, come on!" Edmund let out an exasperated, yet slightly sympathetic, cry.

Susan shot him a reproaching look, but turned to Peter to say, "You did call us here with something important to say… we could come back later if you preferred."

Lucy let out a frustrated sigh and slid herself down the chair in an attempt to kick Peter – who incidentally now was sitting opposite her – but caught Edmund's leg instead.

He let out a roar and lunged for Lucy, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder before parading the giggling girl around the kitchen claiming he'd throw her in the bin, or maybe just eat her.

In the meantime, Peter held his face in his hands and Susan laid a sympathetic hand on the back of his downturned head. She gently stroked his besheveled hair, patiently awaiting anything he had to say.

"I'um engaphed." He forced the words out through both his teeth and his hands, so it was all but inaudible.

"Pardon?" Susan removed her hand and looked confused, but polite.

Peter slowly lifted up his head, finally gathering enough courage to face the only thing he'd ever been truly worried about in this situation: his family.

"I'm… engaged."

Behind him, Peter heard Edmund almost drop Lucy. "WHAT?"

* * *

Meanwhile, in the alternative reality that contained all manner of beings, including one very distressed talking squirrel, trouble was a-stirring.

Said squirrel raced around n circles on the step, having knocked repeatedly on the door and waited for an answer too long for his nerves to hold tight. A highly irritated dwarf pulled open the tiny door and was tempted to kick the hyperactive squirrel, who he knew as Timbertree, across the small opening in the woods outside his front door.

"What is it?" He growled, though his barred teeth weren't visible through his thick grey beard.

"Koal! Koal! Koal!" He stopped running, but couldn't stay still, so he proceeded to jump up and down on the spot.

"Yes, yes, yes," Koal scowled at Timbertree, "We're in the middle of our dinner, so if you could make this quick."

Timbertree shrieked. "Jolynas. Griffin. Prophecy. Aslan."

The last word was what caught Koal's attention. "What about Aslan, Timber?" The anger in his voice was replaced by angst.

"The griffin and prophet, Jolynas, has predicted Aslan's death! For real, this time!"

The pair stared open mouthed at each other, unable to comprehend the situation fully for several moments.

Finally, Koal spoke up, his usually gruff voice bare and high-pitched, "What do we do?"

_I know, i know; it's cheesy to end almost every section with a question, but that was kinda the point: don't panic, i meant to do that. You could have guessed that by the chapter title. Please review. It make s me jolly instead of folly. Wow, i'm in a cheesy mood._


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